


The Germ-X Incident

by MissHowdoyoudo



Series: Wish It Were Me [6]
Category: Original Work, The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Counting, Gen, Head Injury, Intrusive Thoughts, OCD, Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, Panic Attacks, Perfectionism, Poisoning, Self-Harm, germaphobe, panic disorder, unintentional self-harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:48:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28059471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissHowdoyoudo/pseuds/MissHowdoyoudo
Summary: What happened to warrant the doctors taking away Chuck's hand sanitizer all the time. Not related to Ben and Klaus at all, but some backstory for Chuck (if only minor).Doesn't have to be read in order to understand the rest of the story.(PLEASE READ THE TAGS)
Series: Wish It Were Me [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1852501
Comments: 6
Kudos: 23





	The Germ-X Incident

**Author's Note:**

> This story has been sitting on the backburner for a while now, and I thought, what the hey.
> 
> TW: accidental self-harm, panic disorder, panic attack, intrusive thoughts, perfectionism, germaphobia, OCD, injuries, counting and keeping track of odds and evens.  
> Please PLEASE be careful. This is probably the most intense thing I've written. My mother has OCD and sometimes has OCD attacks. It's scary and panic inducing for everyone.  
> (Rating is for the mess that happens. Nothing graphic except for the thoughts and his actions.)

Chuck was having a bad day. He knew it was bad as soon as his nurse was late with his pills (too late, now I can't take it today). He knew it when he paced the room fourteen times (thirteen is lucky, fourteen is even). He knew it when he grabbed the entire Germ-X bottle that rested on his bedside table (gotta be clean, clean, cleaner).

Anxiety crept along his skin and left his body chilled. His spine shuddered and his limbs ached. He  _ had _ to pace, had to switch the lights on and off, had to scrub at his body until it bled, had to separate everything into their own category and color, had to had to  _ had to _ \--

If he didn’t he would  _ die _ .

His nurse’s smile was lopsided naturally, much like his own (the angles are wrong, stop it,  _ stop _ \--). Her hair bun was off of center and was too messy (three centimeters, give or take). Her glasses were on her nose crookedly, because her nose was crooked, and he had to fight the urge to re-break her nose (he settled for fiddling with her glasses until they were  _ straight _ ).

“Chuck,” his nurse, (Llewella, too many L’s, stick with last name) Van Zandt, gently removed his hands from her face. He immediately squirted Germ-X on the area and rubbed. “Do I need to contact your doctor today?”

“No,” he shook his head (exactly 90 degrees? Right left right left right left--), and for good measure said again, “no.” (Two is even.)

Van Zandt pursed her lips and scribbled a note on her clipboard (letters aren’t even. Too many variables. Wrong wrong  _ wrong _ \--). “It’s alright, Chuck. Would you like me to help you shave today?”

He shook his head harder (right left right left--). “No. I can shave. No, I can shave.”

(Say it two times. Two is even. Even is good. Odd is bad.)

She gestured for him to head for the bathroom. He clutched the Germ-X close to his chest as he left like it was his salvation.

Just before he closed the door, though, Van Zandt put a hand on the door to stop him. “Wait, you know the rules. Keep the door open unless you need to use the toilet.”

Chuck bobbed his head, up and down, up and down. He left the door open despite the need to have it closed.

(Closed doors all around. One left open. Odd one out.)

He shuddered and reached for the shaving cream and the small razor they provided. Van Zandt watched him like a hawk. He thought it was dumb. He wasn’t  _ hurting _ himself.

( _ Men don’t do these things, Qiu*. Stop making excuses and get your work done _ .)

Carefully, he placed his bottle of Germ-X on the sink counter and popped off the lid of the shaving cream. He had done this hundreds of times before, yet now he was hesitant. He could only place the cream on one hand, and then his hands would be uneven. They would be odd.

( _ Why are you so odd? No child of mine will act this way. _ )

His breaths came in faster, but they weren't filling his lungs. There was something clogging his airway. It felt like a lump of mud.

( _ You will carry the Xiang name. You have to be proper and clean. A well educated man always looks his best. _ )

The shaving cream fell from shaking fingers, and he scrambled at his throat. How did mud get in his airways? He couldn't breathe, he  _ couldn't breathe _ \--

( _ You are a disgrace. Pathetic. Using this "illness" to get your way. I am ashamed to be called your mother. _ )

Van Zandt said something, but it sounded muffled. Was there mud in his ears, too? He wasn't clean, he was filled with dirt and mud and  _ wrong wrong wrong _ \--

(Odd, odd, odd)

Hands shooting from his clogged throat, Chuck scrambled for the Germ-X on the counter. He fumbled with the cap. No delicate hands stopped him.

(No love for the pathetic,  _ odd _ child.)

As soon as the cap was removed, he started drinking. Surely the sanitizer would clear his throat of the  _ dirt _ and  _ mud _ . Maybe it would cleanse the rest of him, too.

The liquid burned on the way down, making his eyes water. He didn't stop. He wouldn't until it was all gone. Until he was clean inside and out.

(Until he was  _ even _ . Until he was the  _ good _ son.)

He got halfway through the bottle when hands were wrestling him for the sanitizer. He cried out in alarm and kept a white-knuckled grip on the bottle. His movements were sluggish, though. His head felt woozy. His stomach cramped.

"Chuck! Chuck!"

( _ Chuck, Chuck!  _ They called him. That was his name now. No longer Qiu the pathetic. Qiu the odd. But weren't Chuck and Qiu one and the same?)

The Germ-X was ripped from him and clattered to the floor, spilling the sanitizer everywhere. And then the hands latched onto him and he  _ screamed _ .

(Hands are dirty. People are dirty. The world is dirty. Educated men aren't dirty.)

He jerked wildly in their arms, bucking about like a deranged animal. He screamed until he had no breath left, then screamed more. He scratched and elbowed and flung himself about to get free, but these hands were much stronger than Van Zandt's. It took biting at the person holding him and the jerk of surprise to get free.

And then he was falling.

There was a loud cracking sound. Pain exploded through his skull. The world faded.

Chuck woke up sometime later with a raging headache and limbs that felt like lead. He winced at the overhead lights that assaulted him. Moving slowly, he brought his hands up to cover his face.

Or, at least, he tried to.

His hands stopped with a clank, metal against metal. He knew what it was. It had happened enough times for him to know.

He was handcuffed to the bed.

"Chuck?"

Chuck looked up, eyes squinting as he did so. The smiling face of his doctor greeted him.

"Hey, buddy. How are you feeling?"

Chuck groaned, and the doctor chuckled.

"Understandable. You poisoned yourself, and then hit your head pretty hard on the bathroom sink. Gave nurse Van Zandt quite the scare."

The cuffs clinked again.

"Sorry we had to cuff you. We weren't sure if you would be stable enough when you woke to not want to hurt yourself again."

He didn't want to hurt himself. He was trying to be  _ clean _ .

(Trying to be even. Not odd.)

His doctor gave him another soft smile and pulled up a chair to sit with him for a while. They spent the rest of the afternoon chatting lightly about this and that as Chuck calmed himself.

He wasn't allowed to have Germ-X after that.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Glad I could write something for Chuck. Severe OCD is not something to be messed with. It can kill. Please be safe my friends.
> 
> *Qiu is Chuck’s actual, Chinese name. Because he went West, and people couldn’t pronounce it, they changed his name. Pronounced Chi-u.


End file.
